The First Annual Hunger Games
by BlazePanem
Summary: The rebellion is over, lost to the Capitol. The citizens of Panem must be punished and controlled through fear and eventual hope. The very first Hunger Games promises to do exactly that and expects children to fight to the death to do it - but who will be the eventual victor?
1. Introduction to the Games

Panem stood in absolute silence as they looked up at their leader, President Snow upon large screens built in the town squares of each district.

After the rebellion had been lost, policing had been tighter than ever. Peacekeepers were everywhere, you couldn't throw a stone without hitting one (and losing your arm in the process). They kept an eye on everyone with the aim of keeping an eye out for the last seeds of hope to crush. Not that there was any hope after the end of District 13. Even the rebels couldn't account for that loss and so that was the final straw and the beginning of the dark days.

"Citizens of Panem," began Snow in a booming voice that could instil fear in the bravest of rebels. "Things must change. It seems there are some members of our society that have lost their way. They need a reminder of what this rebellion has done to us all. There must be consequences for their actions. Therefore a solution has been devised by myself, my trusted council and a representative from each of the twelve districts."

A few members of the crowd exchanged glances. Quick, fleeting. Nothing to cause suspicion.

Everyone knew that President Snow had long ago abandoned the advice of his council - majority of them had been killed during the rebellion at Snow's hands. As for the district representatives; they had two choices: agree, or die. Nobody could blame them for what was to come. "Each year, districts one through twelve must provide both one young man and woman who are to be known as tributes between the ages of twelve to eighteen to fight in an outdoor arena until there is a lone victor. This young man or woman will return home with honour and glory - with more riches than they could ever need and a years supply of food for their entire district."

The crowds hummed with shocked voices within each district. What would this mean for everyone? Could they refuse? Unlikely considering how quickly the peacekeepers could kick them down. In the districts nearer the Capitol there was resentment. The rebellion had been a much less popular concept in these parts and that meant that some families felt they should be exempt from such cruelty. "Of course, not only will one participant return victorious, but the loss of the twenty-three other tributes that took part will remind us all of the sacrifices and the lives we have lost due to the misguided attempts of the rebels to overthrow our long standing system."

Gasps among the crowd. Murmurs. The people had known there would be consequences - but what could be worse than the loss of so many of their children each and every year? Perhaps there would be another way. Perhaps this was just a shock tactic. Perhaps not.

"This event will be televised and of course shall be mandatory viewing for all. It shall be known as The Hunger Games and the first event - the reapings in each districts where the tributes shall be selected will begin exactly one year from now."

For the first time, President Snow looked directly at the cameras. The citizens of Panem knew there was nothing that they could do. He was in complete and utter control. "Good luck to you all -" there was a pause and an almost undetectable smirk, "and may the odds be ever in your favour."

Then the screens went black and Panem was silent.


	2. District One

The entire year had been nothing but an endless cycle of news reports and updates on the rules of the Hunger Games, deaths of rebels in various districts (a small minority trying to muster up an anti-games protest, but most just innocent people made an example of to instill fear) and training.

The first broadcast that had spurred our father on to teach us how to defend ourselves was the one about the rules while we were inside the arena. We would be able to acquire weapons on the first day, or steal them from other tributes later if we could. If we were really lucky, members of the public in the Capitol with all their money to spare might take a liking to us and send us gifts. Our father knew that we needed to pick up some skills - especially seeing as District Two deals with masonry, and the likelihood was that the tributes from that district were going to have mastered the use of weaponry. My sister and I hadn't exactly been keen on 6am starts five days a week in order to learn the history of war and the different techniques Generals had used in battles, but we did appreciate that because of our new strict fitness regime we were now allowed to have a bigger portion of the food. As we grew stronger and more skilled, my father became more determined to prepare us - which became difficult when Peacekeepers began dishing out punishments for any child found to be training specifically for the games. At first I had been terrified of everything to do with the games, and then came an interview with the presenter of the Hunger Games himself - Apollo Flickerman.

He was wearing an obnoxious yellow suit, and curious yellow eyes that I had never seen on a person before. It was very unnerving - especially in contrast with his slick black hair.

"So tell me Apollo - how exactly will the reapings go down?" A smartly dressed (but rather conservative looking for the Capitol) brunette woman in towering heels asked, as if they were discussing the details of a party.

The man leant forward, his yellow eyes sparkling with excitement. "Well, all the possible candidates will stand in their town squares in age groups and their names will be placed in a glass bowl - the older you are, the more times your name will appear in the bowl. Once if you're twelve, twice if you're thirteen and so on and so forth. So each year, there are more chances to be picked than the last - isn't that magnificent?" He asked in all seriousness and I tried not to throw the remote at the television in anger. This was mandatory viewing, and with Peacekeepers patrolling everywhere I wasn't about to start any trouble.

"That's genius!" The woman exclaimed, clapping her hands together in delight.

"Of course, but you know - if we're lucky, the person who is picked might not be the one to go into the arena," he winked and smiled slyly. I seriously hoped I never had to meet this man.

"Oh you tease - let us in on what you know!" The woman said, with a light punch on the presenter's shoulder. They giggled together in delight as the crowd wooped and cheered for more information. It was making me sick to my stomach. Not one person in the crowd appeared to have a problem with any of it.

"After both tributes have been picked, there's the option for someone - anyone is eligible to be picked of course - to volunteer to take the place of the tribute of the same gender! Wouldn't it be truly magnificent to have someone as brave and daring as that taking part in the games?" He jibed, but I had had enough of their conversation. I knew all that I needed to know. I could volunteer. It was dumb, but it felt as though if I chose to take part rather than being forced, in some ways it was like they hadn't defeated me yet. I could still choose when to live or die. Obviously if I got picked, then it was a different story, but just imagining I didn't, this would be like my own tiny victory. They couldn't just have _anybody_ from our district - we got to decide at least that. And this time I had chosen me.

The night before the reaping I awoke abruptly before sunrise to the sound of screaming from my sister's room. I knocked upon the heavy oak door and pushed it open without waiting for a response.

"Allura?" I called out to where I could see her lay face down and screaming into her pillow, her blonde hair splayed out around her like golden silk. She sat up at the sound of my voice and I got into the bed beside her, wrapping my arms around her shaking body.

"What if I get picked, Benz?" She sobbing, wiping her eyes with her pajama sleeve. "I don't want to die." I squeezed her tightly, horrified at the idea of her name being pulled out of one of those glass jars. She was only thirteen years old. Training or not training, I couldn't bear to see her in some outdoor arena fighting for her life. Brandishing weapons. Having to choose between taking another child's life or dying.

"Don't panic, everything will be ok." I whispered, and stroked her hair as she fell back to sleep. It was all I could say and for all I had known then, I could have been lying to her. But we fell back to sleep eventually, with my checking occasionally throughout the last couple of hours of freedom that we had left that Allura was ok. If this was going to be a televised event, I wanted her looking her best in order to become popular. I certainly didn't want anybody to think she was weak, and therefore an easy target. Because she wasn't - and if she was going in, there was no way I wasn't going to be there to protect her. By the time we had to get up I had barely gotten any sleep. As I padded to the bathroom to freshen up for the big day, I saw that the blue-eyed. blonde boy staring back at me in the mirror was a shell of what he had been a year ago. His usually golden skin looked sallow, and huge, dark bags hung below dull blue eyes that used to glisten, making them the new defining feature of his face. The Hunger Games had aged him, and they hadn't even started yet.

Downstairs my parents were sat at the table in silence. My father was eating, but he held tightly to my mother's hand. When he saw me, the parental mask of bravery he had worn all year fell immediately over his face. It was getting too easy for him to lie about how worried he was to me.

"Benz, come here and have some breakfast - who knows how long the reaping will take? It could take hours and we might have to have a late dinner!" He gestured to the chair opposite him and I slowly sat down, eyeing both my parents carefully. My mother said nothing, just stared down at her empty cup of tea. The rebellion had changed her. She used to be so full of life but now she could barely muster up the energy to speak. She had lost so many people during the war - friends, family - her own father had been put on lockdown for suspicion of being a rebel. I tried to swallow down the guilt I felt, knowing I would be one more person she loved to leave.

"What if I get picked? I won't be coming home for dinner then, will I?" I spoke matter-of-factly, without anger - I couldn't blame my father for wishful thinking. And his attempts to pretend there was no chance of myself or Allura getting picked were to reassure the whole family, after all. He couldn't possibly know that I was planning on not making it home for dinner. I hadn't told a soul of my plan.

My father's face darkened. "You _will_ make it home. You only have to survive this year and then you're too old to be chosen."

"What about me?" Called a little voice from the doorway. Puffy-eyed but still looking like something from a dream, Allura stood before us in a lovely emerald green dress our mother had chosen for her to wear to the reaping. I noticed she had purposely put us in matching colours - my tie was of the same shade.

"Don't worry, your name is only in the bowl once. Someone might volunteer." I offered, and I might have been crazy, but I could have sworn Allura had given me a knowing look. But perhaps it was just one of disbelief - after all, everyone knew that only a crazy person would volunteer for these games.

As we reached the square, Peacekeepers ushered us into a line before we could even say goodbyes to our families. Just as we had been informed only a week ago, a small blood sample would be taken to ensure we were waiting in the crowd and then we were to stand with our peers. I watched out for Allura as she slipped in with some girls from her class - I recognized some of them and hoped none of them were to be in the games - before I went to stand beside a few of my own friends.

Before us, a large stage had been set up, with two glass bowls on pedestals. In the center stood a tall woman with long brown hair in intricate curls down to her waist and electric blue bangs. No doubt from her attire that she was from the Capitol, the style was so distinct. Even the people from our own district - the district of luxury goods - dressed with more subtlety than that. She stood with her hands clasped in front of her, waiting for complete silence before stepping up to the microphone.

"Welcome all, to the very first reaping for the Hunger Games!" A few adults clapped politely, but the crowd that I was stood in was frozen in fear. Even the people who were known as crybabies and school managed to keep their whimpering silent. "Before we begin, the President has a few words for you all."

We all turned our attention to the large screen above her head where a video showing the destruction of District Thirteen was played out. Then came President Snow who reminded us that we were here to repent for our mistakes and then he was gone.

"Now we must pick our brave tributes who will represent District One!" The woman sang in a voice way too chipper for someone tasked with the responsibility of sending two innocent children to their deaths. Not that she probably cared. She probably blamed us all for everything that had happened. She tottered over to the glass bowl on her right in some ridiculous shoes she could barely walk in. Instead of normal heels, they had been replaced with a small structure of pink, crystal butterflies. They looked very uncomfortable to walk in, but I supposed someone from the Capitol getting to be filmed at a mandatory event should dress to be remembered. "Our female tribute is..." She paused for effect while the entire crowd held their breath. "Topaz Luminoz!"

A gasp from the crowd told me that this girl must have been very popular in her year. After the initial shock, it was silent and absolutely still for just a moment too long and then Topaz found herself being escorted to the stage by three Peacekeepers. One at either side and one behind her. It didn't need to be said why they were there. So she couldn't run. As soon as I saw her face I was transported back to another time when ] I had been friends with her brother, Saph before he joined the rebellion. He died after being tortured in the Capitol for information. He never did reveal anything apparently. He was a loyal guy and had always stuck to his beliefs - I had admired him a lot for that, although my father thought it best that I didn't associate with anyone who might be a rebel. As Topaz walked through the crowd I noticed that she was almost identical to her older brother. The same fair skin, fair hair and bright green eyes similar to the shade of fresh grass. A thought passed through my head that I felt guilty for - _At least Allura was safe for another year._ Guilty, because she might be safe, but Topaz was anything but.

"Blaze Price!" Called the woman and out stepped a boy from the year below me. He was quite pretty looking for a boy, something that was a very common trait for the people from the better half of the district. He had the bright green eyes and white-blonde hair that usually define you as part of a family that ran a store or was in charge of the factories, rather than those who simply worked in them. He didn't show any signs of fear on his face, but his hands were shaking. The woman smiled as he stepped on stage. I had never got to know the boy, but I was probably about to save his life.

"Are there any volunteers?" She asked hopefully, not really expecting anyone to step up. It was the first time she had shown any signs of genuine emotion and it disgusted me. In that moment I almost didn't step out because I saw Allura's gaze snap towards me. Somehow she had guessed what I had been planning. How? I didn't know, and I didn't have time to ponder on it, as my feet carried on before my brain had time to stop me. Everyone turned to look at me. I felt their confusion projected on to me all at once. The woman smiled, ecstatic that she had the first volunteer ever as I stood out from the crowd below her. Surely the Capitol was entertained now.

I searched for the right words to say and all I could think of was: "I volunteer as tribute."


	3. District One Goodbyes

The moments the words left my mouth I heard a yelp from the crowd that I recognized as my mother's. She was quickly hushed by my father who wouldn't meet my eyes as he held my mother to his chest and kissed her head. I noticed he was holding her too tightly - he was just as upset as she was. I felt a pang of guilt and looked down at the floor, away from any curious eyes.

"What a brave young man!" The chipper voice of the woman with the blue bangs called out. "Come on up and introduce yourself for the people at home!"

I clenched my jaw as I looked towards the stage and took the steps up to the microphone, standing before everyone I had ever known in my life. "My name is Benz Lightman," I choked out in the most unstable voice I could muster - which really wasn't at all stable. The crowd below me stared in horror as though I had betrayed them. They couldn't understand why I would do such a crazy thing and no doubt they thought this was the last time I would be seen in District One. They were probably right, the odds were against me.

I turned to Topaz and saw that unsurprisingly, all the color had left her face. Nobody had volunteered to take her place and nobody would. Shocker. I shook her hand, giving her the warmest smile I could manage, given the circumstances. There was no need to be enemies just yet - besides, maybe making her think we were friends could work to my advantage in the end.

"Well then, everybody give a round of applause for our very first District One tributes - Topaz Luminoz and Benz Lightman!"

The crowd clapped unenthusiastically and then Topaz and I were ushered into the justice building for our goodbyes. The room I had been sent to was as magnificent as I had imagined. I had never been inside the private rooms before, but they were even more spectacular than the public area. Plush cream carpets covered the floor and I fought the urge to take off my shoes and feel its softness between my toes. My family was one of the poorer families of District One. Sure, we were comfortable - especially in comparison with some of even the richest families in the poorest districts, but we could never afford such a beautiful carpet. I bet Topaz's family could, I bet they had this exact one throughout their entire house. They were one of the richest families in the district, which is why it was so surprising to the rest of the district when her brother, Saph, joined the rebels. Not that it had surprised me, he had always been too good of a guy, and the state of the other districts had always bothered him. He was a justice seeker through and through.

I was just admiring a beautiful glass bookcase, where the entire front was encrusted with jewels when my father stormed in, trailed by my mother and Allura.

THUMP!

My back hit the wall as he grabbed me by my shoulders and shoved me into a corner so that I couldn't escape him or his anger.

"What were you thinking?!" He yelled, shaking me violently. "You would have been safe! You would have been safe!" He kept repeating himself, his voice filling with more despair with each time he spoke. "You would have been safe..." He let go of me, his voice completely deflated, and walked to the other end of the room, pushing his hands through his golden hair that was flecked with white.

"And what about Blaze Price?" I asked, a little worked up. My dad scoffed and I knew exactly what he was thinking. He'd rather it were Blaze going into the games than me. I walked over to a plump boysenberry futon covered in cushions and took a deep breath to calm myself as I perched on the end. "It's bad enough that we have been forced into this... nightmare," I struggled to find the right word. "If someone has to go, it should be on their own terms, not because they were forcibly picked from a glass bowl. We can't just _let_ them win, dad."

My father shook his head, and muttered something inaudible, but it was clear that I had gotten through to him even if he wasn't very happy about it.

Allura ran over to me at that moment and threw her arms around me. I had half expected my mother to do the same, but when I looked over to where she was standing, she had retreated to the further corner of the room, with her arms wrapped around herself. I looked back at Allura and tapped her chin. "Be brave, Allie." She nodded and buried her face into my shoulder. Later I would notice she had left tear marks there, and that would almost crack me when I sat alone.

At that moment a Peacekeeper entered and notioned for my family to leave. My mother tore Allura away from me, refusing to look at me and headed for the door. I couldn't help feeling a pang of disappointment in her. My father put his hands on my shoulders again, but this time gently. "Come back to us alive." I nodded, and then I was left alone, trying not to cry. But they weren't my only visitors. Someone I hadn't expected to see slipped through the door with a solemn expression. Blaze. It was clear from his face that he had been crying, but he wasn't going to cry in front of me. In his hands, something gold reflected in the light.

"You're allowed to take a token into the arena with you, you know." He said, and I nodded, waiting for whatever it was he had planned on saying. It was brave of him to come to see me, if the situation were reversed I think I would have gone home and hidden alone in my room. "Do you have one?" He asked and I shook my head, so he stepped forward. "Then please, take this." He handed me the gold object he had been holding. A golden chain with a small watch pendant. It was obviously expensive and by the look on his face as it passed from his hands to mine, held a sentimental value much larger than it's literal price.

I thrust the object back into his hands. "I can't take something so valuable to you."

"I owe you my life, this is nothing in comparison. Consider it a thank you." Then he placed it gently on the glass coffee table with jewels inbetween two layers to cover the entire top and slipped out the door as quickly as he had come in. He had looked back at me once before leaving, telling me that he did not expect me to come back.

I stared at the chain for a moment before giving in and placing it around my neck. There was no way of returning it to Blaze now, anyway. A small reminder of home might even give me the extra motivation I needed to survive this thing. And it was at that moment I knew how much I wanted to survive. So the Capitol's plan had worked despite my best intentions. I would kill anyone I had to in order to get back home.


End file.
